


Oaths We Should Have Sworn

by LadyBrooke



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Ghost Sex, Hopeful Ending, M/M, Spanking, Suicidal Thoughts, canonical character deaths
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:55:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24954907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyBrooke/pseuds/LadyBrooke
Summary: Finarfin looked around his tent during the War of Wrath, and considered all he had lost.Fingolfin was determined that his youngest brother not join the rest of them in the Halls.
Relationships: Finarfin | Arafinwë/Fingolfin | Ñolofinwë
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16





	Oaths We Should Have Sworn

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a 100 Words of spanked and fucked by the ghost of his dead brother thread on ffa.

Finarfin looked around the tent, then stood and pulled the flaps tighter, making sure they were tied closed so that no one could disturb him.

Then he returned to his armor, carefully considering it. This was his best chance for it to appear as an accident. He picked up his file, considering what he had learned about the armor’s weaknesses.

“Nay, Arafinwë. You must not.”

The file in Finarfin’s hand dropped to the ground with a dull thud. He barely noticed its absence, his stomach roiling in despair and anger at the spirit in front of him. In front of him stood Fingolfin, incorporeal but still filling the tent with his presence.

Finarfin wanted to punch him, but instead he kneeled on the ground and picked the file back up, in case this was a hallucination brought on by Morgoth or the stress. “You cannot stop me, brother, when you were the one who got yourself killed - you, Atar, Fëanáro, Lalwendë, all of my sons, all of my nephews save Maitimo and Makalaurë, Irissë. If I wish to do so, I will, and I will not be dissuaded by the ghost of a former king.”

He placed the file back against the breastplate. If he only could damage the metal some, it would shatter when hit, and finally this would be over.

His hand was gripped and pulled back, fingers tightening around his and pulling until he dropped the file once more.

“I said no, little brother.”

For a moment, Finarfin considered giving him what he wished. He had not expected Fingolfin to actually be able to touch him. Then he tried to jerk his arm away again. “I promised myself I would listen to you no longer when you left me, and I have no intentions of going back on that promise.” 

“Regrettably for your attempts to get yourself killed, I did not renounce my oath to protect you,” Fingolfin snapped back. “I will not let you die.”

“I cannot live like this.” Finarfin let himself go limp, trying to buy his brother’s trust so he would leave. He told himself it was not also because part of him wanted to believe Fingolfin would fix things as he used to. “I am too tired of life.”

“You used to say the same in Valinor, and you lived through those days.” Fingolfin’s hands relaxed slightly, moving to stroke up Finarfin’s arms. “You swore you would not leave me.”

“I should have made you swear the same oath,” Finarfin said. “And I had other things to focus on in those days.”

“You should have made me swear such,” Fingolfin agreed. “Well, turn over so that I may once more give you something else to focus on.”

Finarfin blinked, staring up at his brother. Then he noticed the position they were in. Fingolfin had dragged them both towards the ground, and Finarfin now found himself in his brother’s lap. 

“No,” he said instead of turning. “You do not deserve to do this anymore.”

“Nay,” Fingolfin agreed again. “But you deserve to have this, and I know you will not trust anyone still here to do so.”

Finarfin was still. “I do not need you to do so.”

“You need not be brave and stoic past the point at which you break.” Fingolfin ran his hand down Finarfin’s back, until it lingered over his buttocks. “Please, brother, let me give you the pain you crave. Let me distract you from your present path, or at least try to do so, if only for any memory of the love you used to hold for me.”

The entire problem was that Finarfin had never stopped loving his brother, but he did not say so, merely turning over in Fingolfin’s lap, feeling the strange body he knew did not really exist support his weight on cold limbs. 

Fingolfin slowly untied Finarfin’s tunic until he could shove it over his brother’s shoulders. Then Finarfin felt chilled fingers against his waist, and his brother unlacing Finarfin’s leggings until those too joined the tunic on the floor. When only his underwear separated them, Fingolfin murmured, “Do you wish to feel me against you?”

There was a slow heat building in Finarfin’s groin, beginning to crowd out his anger and despair. He nodded quickly, and felt Fingolfin’s clothes disappear. “That is cheating.”

“Of course, dearest brother. Do you think I would wish to waste time on myself that could be spent on you?”

Finarfin tried to respond, but Fingolfin reached his hands up, pulling down Finarfin’s underwear until finally they could both feel all of the other one.

“I’ve missed this,” Finarfin said, keeping his gaze firmly on the ground.

“I know. I know, I am sorry,” Fingolfin said. Then Finarfin felt him shift. “Are you ready?”

“Yes.”

Fingolfin started slow, as he always had when they had been apart for some time. The gentle swats were not enough, and soon Finarfin was squirming as much as he could, seeking more friction.

His brother did not say anything, but slowly sped up and increased the strength of his blows, until Finarfin was gasping with every hit, trying desperately to learn the new sensations against his flesh. Fingolfin’s hands were different now, calloused by time with a sword. 

It was too much, the hand against his buttocks still striking at what surely had to be bruises now and Fingolfin’s cock and his own trapped against one another’s. Finarfin came, biting down on his lip in order to not be heard, enjoying this new pain as well.

Fingolfin continued through Finarfin’s orgasm, and again for some time more until Finarfin felt himself hardening again.

“Ñolofinwë, please,” he said. “I need more.”

“I would not hurt you.” Fingolfin slowed down his blows, until finally he stopped entirely.

“There’s oil in my pack. You will not,” Finarfin argued.

“It has been too long, and you must fight tomorrow.” Fingolfin shook his head. “I would not have you distracted - we can do other things.”

“Do you remember the toy you gave me the last time I left for Alqualondë?” Finarfin lifted his body, turning once more to face his brother. “The largest one you ever gave me, the one that matched your cock?”

“Yes.”

“It is one of my most treasured possessions, and has been so for years. I am still well used to your size, and I will not be denied this.”

Finarfin could tell he had won the argument when Fingolfin’s eyes widened. Evidently his brother had thought it necessary to respect Finarfin’s privacy in some things from the Halls, if not all. 

“Very well,” Fingolfin said. The apple in his throat showed as he swallowed. “Very well. Prepare yourself for me, the way you wish to be.”

That was an unexpected win. Finarfin had thought that even with this, Fingolfin would insist on preparing him slowly and surely, until Finarfin was sobbing in frustration and need. He did not argue though, swiftly crossing the tent and grabbing the oil. He prepared himself quickly, bending over so Fingolfin had no choice but to watch and smiling at the groans he heard.

When he looked back at his brother, Fingolfin was still on the ground, cock pointed towards the sky.

Finarfin crawled towards him until he was perched above his brother.

Fingolfin raised his hands to Finarfin’s hips, guiding him slowly to sink down on his cock once more. Both of them stilled when Finarfin had taken it fully inside.

Fingolfin set a slow pace, seemingly intent on dragging their coupling out as long as possible. Finarfin let him for some time, but it became too much.

“Please, brother,” Finarfin begged. Neither of them were sure exactly what he was begging for, if he wished Fingolfin to take him harder or if he wished to be granted leave to join his brother in the Halls.

Fingolfin kissed his lips. “Ride me as you wish to.”

Finarfin did so, raising his hips and slamming them back down, enjoying the burn inside him and out.

When he was finally close, he felt Fingolfin grab the base of his cock and squeeze.

“What are you doing?” he gasped out.

“Promise me you won’t try to join us. Promise me that you will remember this, and remember why you should live,” Fingolfin said.

Finarfin startled at the tears in his brother’s eyes.

“I-”

“Please, Ara. I led the rest of our family to destruction, do not make me take responsibility for yours as well.”

Finarfin did not move for a second, other than resting his head against his brother’s shoulder and shuddering. Finally, he pulled his head back, kissing Fingolfin’s lips, and then nodded. “I shall not make you do so.” 

Fingolfin held onto his cock only a moment longer, until he gasped and released it, timing their orgasms almost perfectly.

Finarfin slumped forward, feeling his own release between them and Fingolfin’s filling him. Fingolfin moved his hands, holding onto Finarfin’s shoulders and pulling him into a frantic kiss.

And then it was over, Fingolfin’s cock slipping from inside Finarfin.

“You are going to leave me again,” Finarfin said once they were done. It was evidently almost morning, he could hear voices rising outside the tent. He would have to ready himself for battle soon.

Fingolfin nodded. “But I will return.”

“When?”

“I was supposed to be released from the Halls a few weeks ago, but I begged Námo’s leave to wait until your return, so that none would think I meant to steal your crown.” Fingolfin pressed a kiss to Finarfin’s hair. “When you arrive back, look for me - I shall meet you at the docks, if Námo allows such and you will it.”

“If he does not?” Finarfin tried to press down the sudden hope in heart.

Fingolfin smiled then. “I have challenged one Vala for my family, do you not think I would challenge Námo for you?”

Finarfin took a breath, and then released it slowly. “I shall look for you upon my return.”

Fingolfin nodded, and then disappeared from view.

Finarfin stood slowly, stashing the file away in his pack unused and then beginning to dress for the day.

Perhaps the war would be over soon, and hope would return.


End file.
